


Cigarettes and Vodka

by TheVoidless



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: ASDF land, Cuddling, Each chapter has nothing to do with each other, Explicit Language, Fluff, M/M, Smoking, They're both jerks, Tom is confused, Tord's morbid af, Tord's super sneaky, but it's cute, but they're in order according to the chapter, oneshots, tags don't apply to each chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-20 21:12:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11343273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVoidless/pseuds/TheVoidless
Summary: Just some TomTord one shots from some OTP prompts.1:Cigarette, in which Tom's sick of Tord smoking. A glass of water is involved.2:Wet Rides,  where Tom and Tord goes to the newly built ASDF land and of course Tord makes a stupid sexual joke.3:Just a Kiss,  because Tord is sneaky and chocolate is involved.





	1. Cigarette

It’s late at night, and Tom can hear the crickets chirp and the wind blow as he sits on the living room couch, cuddling with his favorite person of all time: Tord. 

He knows that just a year ago he probably would’ve died of shock if his present self told his younger self about the new partnership, but Tom couldn’t be more glad for it. It took a long time for them to get together, but in the end it was worth all the meaningless insults they threw at each other. When they gained enough courage to tell Edd and Matt, they were… surprised, in the least. The other pair had already been maintaining their relationship for a time, and were more than happy that their housemates finally got it together.

But now, as a blizzard shook the house outside, Tom was content to simply think of the heat. The warmth of the house, the comfort of all the soft fabrics pressing against him, and the raw passion of being next to Tord brought him to near nirvana. The keyword being ‘near.’ 

Tord was currently not only being the greatest source of heat, but also the source of a lot of stinging smoke. Tom was notably in the merciful position of being curled up against the other’s body, putting all of his weight on Tord’s side with his head resting on his shoulder. The man in red had his arm curled protectively around his shoulders, pressing him closer. Although most of the smoke that past his significant other’s lips were way past him, the stench of it was more than a meager discomfort. In fact, as Tom takes a deep breath, nudging his head further into the folds of Tord’s red hoodie, the smoke is nearly suffocating.

Regardless of how relaxed Tom was in his position, he knew he had to do something about it eventually. He knows for a fact that Tord will continue to smoke past his first cigarette into another out of the case, and he simply cannot wait it out. 

He shifts a little bit, more than what was usual, and it grabs Tord’s attention from the TV. It was currently on some sort of military documentary that Tord liked to commentate on when Tom didn’t feel like actually watching anything. 

“What is it, min kjærlighet? Too hot?” Tord asks in his wonderfully soft accented voice. Tom didn’t know what to think about the nickname, but ended up accepting it in the foreign language. “I can move-”

“No, no,” Tom interjects, now moving to straighten up. He almost feels bad for what he’s about to do in the face of Tord’s obvious niceties. Almost. “It’s just your fucking cigarette.”

Tord narrows his eyes, but Tom knows it’s in a playful tone as the other man’s lips tease a grin. “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, asshole.” It’s not exactly in the same soothing voice he used before, but Tom’s willing to take it.

“You piece of shi-” Tom starts with a smile, but it soon turns into a scowl as Tord takes another whiff before blowing it in his face. “Dude! Second hand smoking is not what I’m into.” He waves his hand in front of his face in a failed attempt to dissipate the spreading smoke. 

Tord has an evil grin, “And here I believed the thought of premature death turned you on.”

“Shut the fuck up and put that creation of hell out before I cough out my lungs.”

“So you don’t deny it.”

“Oh my fucking god, Tord,” Tom says in an exasperated tone. He bounces a bit on the couch and does a tiny launch off the furniture after he untangles himself from the other man’s arm. He’s a bit unbalanced as he stands up to face his lover. “Put that shitty thing out or I’m gonna do something that'll make you regret it.”

Tord leans further back into the cushions like a sign of his defiance. “Why don’t you make me?” Now he’s being flirtatious, and he reaches out to touch the other man’s crotch. Tom’s had enough.

To make the scene dramatic, he stalks off to the kitchen with an exaggerated huff, narrowly avoiding the extended hand.

For a split second Tord thinks that maybe he’s pushed it a little far, but is happily made wrong as the man in blue comes back with a shit eating grin and a glass of water.

Then Tord realized what was about to happen.

“Fuck, bro, wait, wait just a second,” Tord makes out, trying to get off the couch to avoid what was coming to him. But he’s too late, and as Tom flings the liquid at him, the water quickly makes its way into his hair and face and drips down onto his hoodie and floor.

Tord nearly chokes on the soaked cigarette in his mouth and is quick to spit it out and chuck it into the nearest trash bin. He’s about to get a little angry for the sake of sweet revenge, maybe rough his boyfriend around a bit. Perhaps do it with enough hot words and some shoving and they’ll both be in bed soon. That is, until Tom’s right next to him, holding his face in his hands with care. He must have put the glass down when Tord wasn’t looking.

“Sorry,” Tom half-heartedly apologizes. His hands find themselves combing through the Norwegian’s damp hair, and Tord gets a shiver that travels south. “But that smoke was fucking disgusting.”

A smile forms on Tord’s face and his eyebrows raise as he looks down into Tom’s abyssal eyes. Then he has his arms wrapped around the slightly smaller man in front of him, holding him into place with military muscled arms. They’re kissing, and the room is suddenly hotter than before. Tord senses a heat build inside his stomach that he wants to hold onto and never let go, and soon he can’t feel anything but the skin that makes contact with Tom’s. Well, that and the pressure of the other trying to move back, back away from the Norwegian because damn if his mouth didn’t taste like smoke.

“Mmph, Tord,” Tom makes out before Tord shushes him with another kiss. Then, “You taste like shit-”

But now Tord’s humming into the other’s mouth, and smoothly leads them both towards the nearest bedroom. It happened to be Tom’s.

“Now you know how I feel when your breath tastes like a damn one-star rated bar.”

They make it onto the bed without much of a problem. Once Tom realizes he can’t get out of the other’s grip he willingly lets Tord guide them to his room. He honestly doesn’t mind the dull taste of it in the other’s mouth as much as breathing the actual smoke down, but it’s such a habit to make a fuss about the smallest of things that Tom can’t stop himself.

And if Tom had to admit it to himself, the sight of Tord smoking was a bit of a turn on. The way he casually held the stick in between his slim fingers, the fashion in which he had such a relaxed face as he contracted the muscles in his lips to purse them-

It’s just the smoke that he couldn’t actually stand.

But now as they collapsed against his mattress and sheets, he could hardly complain as Tord seductively licked the sides of his neck, leaving trails of the ash-tinted saliva on his skin. It gave him pleasant goosebumps, the feeling trailing up and down his body. He had his back smothered up against the fabric, being held down by the man on top of him. Tord’s hands traveled to his chest, seemingly searching for something as he caressed the skin. Tom thinks he moans more than he should, but he’s so out of it that he’s not sure if Tord’s making noise, too.

Now Tord whispers sweet Norwegian in his ear, low and calm, but Tom could feel the heat behind the words, the true meaning it gave. He loved every second of it, even if half the time he didn’t have the slightest clue of what he was saying. 

They continue this for a bit, both of them getting worked up considerably well. Tom nearly forgets it’s freezing cold outside from the extreme amount of warmth that was passing between them. It’s not until after they both come and collapse heavily against the wet blankets that Tord has the urge to say over laboring breaths, “Fuck it. I’m smoking every day from now on.”

Tom gathers the energy to bitch slap him across the face before passing out on the other man.


	2. Wet Rides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord high-key wants a fuck but Tom just wants to enjoy the new ASDF land.

Tom was more than the word “excited” allowed for interpretation. He was beyond ecstatic, and if anyone brought up the subject of his happiness, he would get this really wide smile. Nothing else would give away his inner feelings, but it was unnerving at best to his housemates. They weren't used to such un-Tom-like behavior. And even though it wasn't like he was jumping up and down with glee, getting Tom to crack an expression other than boredom or incredulousness was a feat.

He and Tord had received tickets to the new ASDF amusement park, built from the ashes of the previously zombie infested one. Matt and Edd had bought it as their Christmas present to try and prevent Tom from burning down their tree again, and it nearly worked. Nearly. Because as much as the prospect of going on a great date at an even better place was fantastic, nothing was going to stop the ex-Jehovah’s Witness.

And so that's how he ended up knocking on Tord’s room door impatiently, yelling at him to “hurry the fuck up.”

His significant other cracked the wooden frame open no more than an inch, and peeked out at Tom’s set glare and folded arms. “I will murder you in your sleep if you don't shut up.”

The man in blue rolled his eyes, and uncrossed his arms to press against the door, “Been there, done that.”

Tord didn't relent and closed it a bit more, “Fine. I'll take over the world while you sleep then kidnap you and torture you.”

Tom was unamused and added more weight to lean on the door, “Pfft. Like you could. Just pick up the pace, would you? If we wait any longer we’ll have less time before they close.”

“Tom, it closes at midnight. It's nine in the morning. Plenty of time.” The Norwegian ignores the jab, and at this point he’s left his position and continued to get ready, pulling jeans on leg after leg. He was nearly naked, save for his boxers, and while Tom’s seen it all by now, he'd like to think he really wasn’t _that_ kind of person.

The other huffed outside the now unguarded door, “If we end up not being able to do all the shit I wanna do I'm getting an IOU from you later.”

“Done. Now, if you keep talking to me I'll just take more time.”

At that he had no answer, most likely because Tom walked away immediately after. 

Once Tord had come down fully dressed and ready to go, the couple said they goodbyes to the other two, getting a, “Have fun you guys!” from Edd.

They quickly drove down, blasting and rocking to Norwegian music to which Tom had no idea of it’s meaning. Tord’s uncanny driving skills got them there in record time nonetheless, running two red lights consecutively. Tom thinks the police chase after them for a time, but it’s happened so often he loses track of the when’s and where’s.

They arrive shortly after, and once they’ve passed through the ticket booths Tom’s more than ready for what’s to come.

“OhmygodTord,” Tom blubbers. “Look at how much new shit is here.”

Tord’s gaze follows the other’s pointed finger, looking up and down large roller coasters with a pleased look. He might not have been as excited as Tom to come here, but he sure as hell liked what he saw. The park probably expanded to be more than twice as big as the last one.

Tord only has a few moments to appreciate the social chaos of the park before Tom’s grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie, and is dragging him to the first ride that catches his attention. 

The first they come up to is the biggest badass looking coaster they find. It’s got sweet loops and sharp turns that the couple knows they’ll enjoy. They pass the time waiting in lines by admiring the speed of those presently on the machine of death and, of course, bantering.

“How many people do you think died on this ride?” Tord morbidly questions, observing one particular cart of the ride getting tossed and turned. He holds his breath as they round the corner a bit too fast, but lets it go as they make it out. They all seem to. Which was slightly disappointing, considering he was playing with the idea that maybe he’d see bloodshed today.

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” Tom gives him this incredulous look, but raises an eyebrow quickly later, “But if there’s going to be any, it’ll be you.”

Tord snorts, “So you’re gonna shove me off?”

“Who can really say,” the blue hooded man gets this shit eating grin and Tord can’t help but snicker.

A few puke-inducing rides later and Tom’s still going on strong. Tord is starting to think that maybe the man in blue is immune to motion sickness, because as he’s getting prepared up to just sit it out, Tom’s running to the next best thing.

Well, Tord figures, he did have no gag reflex. What else could the other have up his sleeve? He smirks at the thought. He learned that through experience. Tord internally wiggles his eyebrows, totally okay if Tom suddenly decided to take things to a less public bathroom.

But instead of searching out an abandoned closed space, Tom’s still pulling him through crowds of people. He distantly realizes it’s towards the more water-themed part of the park.

And Tord doesn’t seem to really notice what ride they’re on, at least not until he’s getting in the unstable boat-looking seat. He looks for once at what he’s getting into, and that’s when he sees the giant ass looking waterfalls and automated spraying water guns. Tord’s not exactly all hands for getting soaked, but it was for Tom, so it was worth it.

They go down some steep falls, and for the sake of being a sap Tord’s hand finds itself holding the other’s, delighted that Tom didn’t immediately call him out on it. He occasionally squeezes Tom’s hand in excitement as they near a few drops, but otherwise relishes in feeling the contact.

Soon enough, they’re rounding the last bend to the end and by they’re both positively dripping.

The red hooded man gets this feeling, this impulse, and like an idiot he whispers, “If you wanted to get this wet you could have just asked."

There’s this moment of complete silence and it’s like everything’s been put on pause. Tord gets this blank stare, Tom’s black eyes tearing into his soul. But suddenly he’s being pushed back, the safety bar doing nothing, into the _fucking water_ and it’s _cold_ and _gross_ and _why the fuck did Tom do that he did not deserve that-_

And now Tom’s laughing his ass off and he’s being lifted right up again into the now-slowly moving ride by that fuck, but it’s his beautiful fuck and now he’s laughing too. He’s taken by surprise again when Tom gives him a quick kiss on the lips, but barely has time to register it before they have to get off.

Luckily they weren’t caught in the act of breaking every safety rule in the book by the workers monitoring the ride, but Tord sure as hell catches the look Tom gives him a few paces after they walk away.

“Even if we do every available thing here you still owe me for that,” the blue hooded man says humorously. Then, like an afterthought, he endearingly mutters, “You fuckin’ dork.”

They did end up doing most of what was on Tom’s to-do list, but Tord knows that the other will hold him to the IOU regardless. They visit the arcade (Tom makes sure no real guns were used), and end the day with the ferris wheel, the most cliched and overdone romantic ride. But it’s not like Tord’s complaining, because that’s when they can legitimately make out without everyone staring, at the very top. And maybe Tord isn’t the only one still a little wet when they get back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEADCANNON THAT TORD LISTENS TO KAIZERS ORCHESTRA  
> Also Tom uses IOU's to get Tord to buy him drinks or get a good fuck mwhahaha.
> 
> I'm not super proud of this one (whoops) but I hope you liked it anyways 
> 
> eh


	3. Just a Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a simple question that shouldn't have meant more. But it did. Also, chocolate.

“Hey Tom, you want a kiss?” Tord asked, one of his eyebrows raised in question. His eye twitched expectantly, but his tone was completely casual, like he only inquired of what Tom was up to.

It was a relatively normal day up until that point in Tom’s life. He had gotten up with a bitchy hangover, Tord had poked some fun at him for drinking so much the night before, and Edd and Matt did their usual business. All was fine and dandy, even as they had breakfast and both the red and green hooded men fought over who got the bacon. He and Matt had shared a look and left with their bowls of cereal to the couch, ending up turning up the TV to block out the noise of the argument in the kitchen.

A few shattered glasses later, and the whole thing’s been resolved. It’s not until later that Tom’s got himself comfortably seated on the edge of his bed, teasing a few of the strings of Susan that Tord dares knock on his door. 

Tom sighs, “What do you want?” He doesn’t bother looking up to see who it is, recognizing the way the other man banged on the wooden frame.

The door opens a fraction, Tord’s head pops out from the new space, and that’s when he asks the most confusing question Tom’s ever heard. 

A kiss? A fucking kiss? Tom is silent at first, finally looking up and taking in how only Tord’s head was visible. His expression of something akin to mischievousness tilted Tom, but he was otherwise quite… confused. And a bit shocked.

Because after all these years of insulting each other, it’s the last thing Tom expects to hear from the commie’s mouth. And yeah, he’s had a thing for Tord for quite a while. It’s not like Tord knew about it or anything, though. Right? His heart beat a little faster at the thought that he knew. That maybe he liked him back. _Tord. Liking him back._ Now Tom’s entire face grew red, blushing at what all of this meant. But of all things, why the hell did he ask now? And the way he said it? What was that?

“Uhhh,” he starts after an awkward pause. “I, uhh, I didn’t think you-”

Then Tord shoves the rest of his body into his living space, and that’s when he sees the piece of candy in his hand. “Do you want it, or not? A simple yes or no is sufficient.”

He says it so casually, even like he’s chiding Tom. The Hershey’s chocolate kiss burns into Tom’s eyes for a second before he actually processes what was happening. 

Oh. Right. Of course! What did Tom expect, anyways? His stomach drops a little, because _why the fuck did he think any different, Tord hated his guts, he’s probably only offering it cause it’s gross and melted or maybe he poisoned it-_

Tord clears his throat, and Tom blinks back to reality, “Yeah, sure.” He held out the hand that’s not holding his precious guitar, extended to reach the other’s. The man in red unceremoniously drops it into the other’s hand, and merely walks out. 

That was the first time.

The next came a couple days later, and Tom was alone and slightly drunk on the couch of their living room. The space was uncomfortably silent, the TV turned off and Edd and Matt sleeping. He was enjoying the effects of being shitfaced, a bottle of Smirnoff lazily held in his right hand. Tom played with the rough surface of the labeled glass, his fingers nimbly feeling the surface. He leaned back into the plush cushions, embracing the way it wrapped itself around his body.

“So,” Tord leaned down from his position behind the couch, the front half of his body only visible to Tom. “You want a kiss?”

Alright. Tom wasn’t falling for the hope of Tord actually offering him an intimate time, “Why not, I suppose.”  
After all, the last piece of chocolate he received wasn’t bad like he expected it to be. It was actually pretty good. He pondered on why Tord would give him such a treat, but didn’t think of it after he concluded the other man would forever be an enigma to him.

Tord hands him a kiss, and right then and there, it becomes a routine.

Three days later and the same thing happens, Tord finds Tom alone and asks the usual question. Another few days, and the next, and so on. Every time, the man in blue accepts it, and the other male would walk off like nothing happened. Tom doesn’t know why he takes them. Perhaps he likes to think it means something more, a kind of new connection between them that Tom desperately wants. He ignores these feelings, and settles with tasting the sweet substance.  
And then things changed. This time Tom’s walking down the hall between their rooms and Tord walks up from behind him.

“Hey, Tom,” he calls, and Tom turns around accordingly to face the other. His hands are behind his back, he notices, and figures it’s that time again. “You want a kiss?”

Tom’s facial expression or tone doesn’t bother to change for the situation, “Don't see why not.” 

But he’s caught off guard. Because Tord’s hands come out from their spot from his back and they’re empty. _They’re empty._ It repeats in Tom’s head like a mantra, at least until Tord’s body moves towards him and he’s leaning forward.

And then their lips are making contact, and Tom’s too surprised to do anything. His mind seems to blank out completely, from being unsure of the events taking place and the very fact that _Tord was kissing him._

It’s nice. The red hooded man’s cool hands come up to him, gently holding the back of his head and playing with his strands of hair. It’s hesitant at first, but soon the pressure is more sure. Tom gets a shiver that runs down his spine, and then his body reacts on autopilot. His own arms come up to wrap themselves around the other’s midsection. Tord’s lips are finally accepted by Tom’s, and he kisses back.

And god, did it feel good. Tom hardly questions the communist’s actions and is content to simply take in the moment. It’s calming, relaxing, even. Tord is tender, taking care in his movements. It’s nothing like any of his other experiences with the other man, but damn if he was going to make it any different.

Tom notes the softness of Tord’s mouth, and is slightly embarrassed with his rougher set of lips. It’s not like he had much of a warning anyways to try and put chapstick on. But if Tord cared, he didn’t show it, only going deeper into the kiss as time ticked by. It felt like a blessed forever. Tom didn’t want it to stop, but of course it did.

And when they broke off, Tord had this glazed look that made Tom even more confused. Like he was fully expecting the blue hooded man to immediately wrench away from the contact and start yelling. But it never happened, and Tord just… stood there, staring at Tom’s seemingly empty eyes. Maybe even seeing the intense scarlet that crossed his face, and right as Tom realized how hot his face was, he grew more red and looked down. 

They must have come to the same train of thought, because they both quickly let go of each other. Then Tord’s running back to his room, entering it with a final bang of his door and Tom’s left in the hall. He stood in place, still grasping what just happened, and feeling the after effect’s sensations. A small part of him wishes it went further, but he knew it wouldn’t feel right.

If Tord asked that same question again, there's no doubt in Tom’s brain he'd say yes, even if he meant the chocolate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: I wrote most of it at 1 am. Whoops?


End file.
